


Wishing on Stars

by redheadgirl



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, OC, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadgirl/pseuds/redheadgirl
Summary: Ginny receives a request from Make-A-Wish to meet a young fan.





	1. Chapter 1

“Ginny, did you hear what I said?”

Ginny blinked several times, her only outward sign of surprise. “Yeah Skip, I heard you. Make-A-Wish has a kid that wants to meet me for her wish.”

Al grimaced. “Well, it’s a gray area. Make-A-Wish reached out to the Padres, but because the girl is nearly 18, it would impossible to have it before her birthday. So technically, it would be something you’re doing on your own for her, with the Padres assistance.”

“So what do they expect me to do?”

A cursory knock on the door sounded at the same time Lawson stuck his head in the office. “Did you need something Al?” His eyes moved back and forth between Ginny and Al, trying to assess the situation by their body language.

Al waved Mike to the sofa. “I was just telling Ginny about a request I received from Make-A-Wish. I know you’ve had a couple of kids in before so I thought you could give her an idea of what to expect.”

Mike’s eyebrows rose as he looked at Ginny. “This is your first time?” When she only nodded, a smile appeared on his face. “You mean  _ The  _ Ginny Baker, the darling of American sports, hasn’t been on any organizations’ favorites list before?”

Instead of jabbing back at him she just shook her head. The look in her eyes sobered him quickly. She was trying not to panic. He could see the heavy burden of her fame beginning to weigh on her shoulders. She had come so far and the last thing he wanted to do was see her pull back into the shell that allowed no one to help her.

He cleared his throat. “Well, you’re handling it better than I did when I got my first request.”

“What did you do?”

“I puked.”

That surprised a laugh out of both Ginny and Al. “You vomited in the manager’s office,” she asked on a laugh.

“It was the GM’s office. I walked into his private bathroom and threw up. He stood outside of the door and kept talking to me the entire time. He wouldn’t shut up and give me time to think.” He scowled at her renewed laughter. “If you tell anyone about this…” he began.

“I won’t, I promise,” she told him. Her laughter ended but she was still smiling when she asked, “So what did you do with your kids?”

Mike moved to plop down in the chair next to hers. “Whatever they wanted. Mostly, just a chance to meet and hang out for an hour or two.”

“What about that teenager,” Al interrupted. “You spent all afternoon terrorizing the grounds crew with him.”

Mike grinned unexpectedly. “Jake was great. Originally he wanted to play catch in the bullpen, but his wheelchair didn’t do well on the grass.”

“So Mike grabbed the crew’s Gator and picked the kid up at third base," Al interrupted. "And instead of playing catch in the bullpen, they ended up harassing the head groundsman until he changed the design in the outfield.” Both men laughed at the shared memory.

“Did the girl… what was her name?... say what she wanted to do,” Ginny asked Al. 

Al shifted in his seat. “Her name is Mi-Lin and she just said that she wanted to meet you. She has a video she wants to send you to introduce herself.”

Ginny took a breath. “Well then, tell her I’m expecting the video soon so I’ll know what to do when we meet.” Her eyes flicked to Mike’s, as if seeking reassurance. He gave her a nod and the tension visibly eased from her shoulders.

Al shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I feel like in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that my daughter Natalie is Mi-Lin’s doctor. She has treated her for several years now, and she’s the one that helped facilitate the arrangement with Make-A-Wish.”

“What else do I need to know about Mi-Lin? Is there any background you can give me? I want to have an idea about what she is able to do when she’s here.”

Al grabbed a baseball from his desk and began to toss it back and forth between his hands. Both ball players smiled at their manager’s long standing habit of always having a ball within arm’s reach. “I don’t know much about her. What I do know isn’t a happy story.”

“She had cancer when she was little and spent plenty of time in the hospital when she was young. Somehow she ended up in the state’s custody and was moved from foster home to foster home when she wasn’t in the hospital. As soon as she turns 18, she’s out of the system and on her own. The hospital has their social workers looking into assistance she may qualify for, but as of right now things are up in the air.”

Al suddenly straightened and pinned the ball to the desk. “I want you to know that Mi-Lin gave permission to share that information. Natalie isn’t violating her privacy or that HIP rule, or anything like that,” he told them, his gruffness not hiding his concern for his daughter. 

“Skip, there’s not a person on the planet that would think that your daughter is anything less than the professional she is.” Mike’s tone clearly carried his confidence in his words. 

Al gave a nod at the compliment. “Well, if you’re on board, we need to get this happening as soon as possible. The cancer is already widespread and there’s no guarantee how long she’ll be able to make the trip.”

Ginny swallowed hard before squaring her shoulders. “Have her send that video. I’m ready whenever she is. We’ll make this a dream come true.”

The men waited for Ginny to leave before Mike closed the door, sealing the office against the clubhouse and guaranteeing their conversation remained private.

“How do you think she’ll handle this Mike?”

The captain sighed. “I think she’s going to get her heart broken.”

Al’s eyes closed for just a second longer than a blink before he tiredly sagged back against his chair. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

 

********************************

 

“Baker, you’re making me motion sick. Quit pacing and sit your ass down. She’s not going to get here any faster if you wear a hole in the carpet.”

Ginny threw a scowl over her shoulder, but kept tracing a path from her cubbie to the clubhouse door. “Remind me again why you’re here, old man? I know it’s way too early for you. Remember how your doctor told you to get more sleep now that you’re elderly?”

Mike laughed, in no way insulted at her dig. “Nice try, rookie.”

“Well, go away. Go bug Blip or,” she paused to tap her lip, as if deep in thought, “you can call your favorite groupie for a nooner. I’ve heard those little blue pills work even faster now, so you should be okay.”

“That was better, but still not gonna work, Baker. Someone has to babysit you, and it’s my turn.”

Ginny growled, literally growled, in frustration. “What do I have to do to make you go away?”

“You have to calm down. You’re not going to do your kid any good if you’ve dropped dead from a heart attack, are you?”

She flopped on the sofa. “There. I’m calm.”

Mike pulled out his phone and started scrolling. “Not even close,” he told her without taking his eyes off the screen. He mentally began counting. Sure enough, he only reached six before she spoke.

“Why does she have to be late? I mean, really, how hard is it to be on time?”

Mike's head whipped around to glare at her, his look darkening by the second. “Baker,” he barked, doing nothing to hide his displeasure with her. “It’s not her fault the only wheelchair accessible bus available is late.”

“I know! I’m sorry.” She leaned forward until her elbows rested on her knees and she could drop her face in her hands.  “I’m a terrible person. I didn’t mean it. It’s just…”

Mike’s scowl eased. “It’s just that the waiting is terrible. You’ve been planning and preparing and making everything just right but the worry that it’s not perfect is getting stronger and the longer you have to wait the worse the anxiety gets.”

Ginny raised her face from her hands and stared at him with gratified amazement. “Yes! Because what if you do something wrong, or say something stupid, or insult her in some way? She used her  _ dying wish  _ to see you and what if you ruin everything?”

It had been a long time since Mike had seen such a panicked expression on Ginny’s face. “Rookie, it will be fine,” he said carefully. “You’re going above and beyond what she asked for. She’s going to be thrilled.”

Her eyebrows pulled down and her lips pursed slightly together in the way it did when she became frustrated. “How would you,” she began before her phone buzzed. She bounded to her feet, already moving towards the door before she even read the text. “That’s Benny saying she’s here,” she told him. 

Mike snorted. “I figured. Either that or the ice cream truck was back again.”

Ginny turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “The only reason you didn’t beat me to the truck was because your knees belong on an 80-year-old. I thought you were going to cry when you saw they were out of ice cream sandwiches.” 

“They only reason they were out is because you bought four, rookie,” he countered. 

She grinned at him, the brightness of it making him smile in an instinctive response. “You snooze, you lose.” She turned away and nearly skipped to the door, her enthusiasm making Mike chuckle. At least it did until she called out to him as she left the clubhouse.

“Can you not be her when we come in? Please? I don’t want you to embarrass me in front of my friends, old man.”

He could tell by the laughter ringing down the hallway that she thought she was funny. He supposed he should be happy that her anxiety was gone but really, all he wanted to do was shake her. If this was the thanks he got, next time he was going to make Salvi babysit. The guy was used to brats.

 

**************************************

 

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?”

Ginny looked down to see Mi-Lin’s big eyes staring anxiously back at her. And Ginny did have to look down. Mi-Lin was tiny; at best, she was 4’9” and 90 pounds, and that was being optimistic. Ginny was in no way self-conscious of her body, yet she felt like an ungainly giant next to the teen.

“I 100% promise I will in no way be in trouble. I already talked to the boys and they all agreed.” Well okay, so agreeing was a bit of a stretch. Still, it hadn’t taken all that much blackmail and bribery to get the team to accept the sudden change to their routine. In fact, most of the guys were more than willing to break with tradition to help Ginny make the day a little more special. The handful of guys that weren’t...well, they deserved a little blackmail. 

“I can’t believe you got them to agree. You’ve got some sort of crazy voodoo powers if you can get a group of guys to agree on anything.” She laughed up at Ginny. “Want to share your secrets if I promise to take them to the grave with me?”

Ginny’s jaw dropped and so did the metal folding chair she was carrying. “What..,” she sputtered.

Mi-Lin grimaced. “I should have warned you that my humor is a little dark. Are you mad?”

Ginny opened and closed her mouth twice before slowly smiling. “You think you have a dark sense of humor? Mi-Lin, I am the queen of dark humor, so be warned.” She leaned over and picked up the chair. “Let’s get you out there and set up before all the guys come out.” 

Mi-Lin waited until they were rolling across the infield grass before speaking. “I could have walked it, you know.”

“I know you could,” Ginny agreed without hesitation. “But this way you get to show off your freaking awesome glow-in-the-dark wheelchair and conserve energy for my next big surprise. And don’t bother asking,” Ginny said, raising her voice to be heard over the girl’s questions. “I’m not telling you. That’s the whole point of a surprise.”

Mi tipped her head back to look up at Ginny. “What if I guess? Will you tell me then?”

“Nope. And don’t bother with the puppy dog eyes. Evelyn does that and it never works.” Ginny mentally cringed, waiting to be struck by lightning for that blatant lie.

Ginny stopped the wheelchair several feet behind the batting cage screen that surrounded three sides of home plate. A quick glance confirmed that the audio guys had already been down and set everything up, per her request. She hadn’t even had time to open her chair before the first of the Padres came trickling out of the dugout and onto the field. 

She opened the chair and plopped it down right next to Mi’s wheelchair and gently placed the audio equipment in the younger woman’s lap. “Alright Mi, the boys agreed to go in order for the first half of batting practice, so you’ll have a chance to get each one of them.”

Mi-Lin bit her lip and stared down at the audio board balancing across her thin legs. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to make anyone angry. And what if the superstitious players blame me if they strike out during the game?”

Ginny leaned over and gently shoved Mi’s shoulder. “Don’t give the boys too much credit. Most of them strike out every game all on their own. The few that don’t are the least likely to blame you. They’re not that stupid which is why they don’t strike out all the time.”

“Says the woman that strikes out every game she plays,” said a voice from behind her.

“I’m a pitcher. I’m almost required to strike out. The last time I made contact and tried to leg out a hit the pitching coach was ready to kill me for risking a sprained ankle,” she reminded Salvi.

“She’s not wrong,” Sonny agreed. “I’m expecting them to write it into my next contract, which sucks because I love batting.”

“Enough fun and games,” the assistant pitching coach barked at them on his way to the pitching screen. “Get moving.”

“Just waiting on you, Red,” Ginny called back. It was a well known fact that only Ginny could get away with talking back to Red because she was his current favorite. The grizzled baseball veteran was open about the fact that she was only his favorite until he found someone who could outwork her, but in the past three years no one had, so she was firmly planted at the top of his People He Hated The Least list.

“Are you sure he’s okay with this,” Mi murmured to Ginny. “He’s seems pretty angry about the whole thing.”

“That’s just Red,” Ginny said, with a dismissive wave in his general direction. “He’s actually much nicer because you’re here.” 

As soon as Shrek stepped into the batter’s box, Mi-Lin took a deep breath and hit a button on the sound board resting on her lap.

 

_ I thought love was only true in fairy tales, _

_ Meant for someone else but not for me _

 

Ginny exchanged a smile with Mi-Lin as she heard the players muttering to each other, trying to figure out the song. It wasn’t until the chorus that the laughter started. 

 

_ Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer _

_ Without a trace, no doubt in my mind _

 

“It’s from the movie Shrek,” Ginny eventually explained to a rookie from Curacao, having to shout to be heard over the players singing along. “You know, because his nickname is Shrek.”

As the song concluded, Shrek stepped out of the box and Salvi slid in. He shot Mi-Lin a grin before settling into his batting stance and waiting for the pitch.

 

_ Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive _

_ He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five _

_ Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip _

_ And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to big John _

  
  


“I don’t get it,” Melky confessed half way through the song. 

Salvi lowered his bat to his shoulder and turned to face the younger player. “The song is called Big Bad John. You know, just like me,” Salvi told him. Several players laughed and jeered at his words.

“Your name is John,” Javanes blurted out, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Yeah, what of it,” Salvi retorted, casually waving at Red to acknowledge the coach’s yell about wasting practice time.

“Nothing, I just thought..,” Melky sputtered to a stop.

“Wait a minute, you didn’t really think his name was Salvi, did you? That’s a nickname,” Sonny asked.

“You thought my parents named me Salvi Salvamini,” the man asked, aghast.

“Hey, it’s not that unusual. I played with a guy named Rodrigo Rodriguez,” Melky defended.

Red threw a pitch that missed Salvi’s head by no more than a foot, instantly bringing everyone’s attention back to where it belonged. The players stayed quiet until Salvi’s turn was finished. He high-fived Mi as he passed in front of her, taking a spot against the screen as Sonny stepped in for his turn. 

“I’m happy that Sonny is so laid back, even when he’s starting. I would never have played a song for him without his permission,” Mi told to Ginny, biting her lower lip. “Are you sure he’s okay with this? It won’t distract him from his game prep?”

Ginny reached over and gave her a side hug. “This is Sonny’s game prep. He’s this laid back all the time. Nothing will throw him off his game unless we get too tense in the clubhouse. He likes keeping things loose.”

Sonny glanced over his shoulder, obviously waiting for Mi-Lin to queue the music before he started batting. With a nod, Mi pushed the button and music poured from the speakers. 

 

_ Waterloo, Waterloo _

_ Where will you meet your Waterloo, _

_ Every puppy has its day, everybody has to pay, _

_ Everybody has to meet his Waterloo _

 

Sonny’s whoop of delight was drown out by the curses, complaints, and groans of misery from his fellow players. One of the relievers pulled his shirt over his ears and shuddered theatrically, while a rookie looked up in surprised glee and started singing along, oblivious to the fact he was one of only two people actually enjoying the song.

“Oh my God, why would you do this to me,” Ginny asked, her hands covering her ears. “I thought we were friends. What did I do to deserve listening to the most hick song ever written?”

“Don’t listen to them Mi-Lin” Sonny called out over his shoulder. “They’re just jealous. Not everyone has a song named after their hometown.”

“I beg your pardon,” Hanan objected. “There are plenty of songs about New York City.”

“And there’s a freaking musical about my Chicago,” Melky pointed out indignantly. 

“Yeah, but those are big cities. Millions of people live there, so it doesn’t count. There is nothing as cool as having a song named after your small hometown,” Sonny announced smugly. 

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t name it after a town in the Midwest,”  Lawson pointed out.

“Ignore them kid,” he told Mi as he left the batting area. “They’re just jealous.” He patted her shoulder gently as he walked by and the teen beamed.

There was a little jostling and playful shoving as Blip fought through the group to enter the box.  He cut Ginny a look from the corner of his eye, silently telling her that she’d be paying if his song was something stupid. Given that Ginny had no idea what Mi-Lin had chosen for his song, it was easy to give him a blank look. 

 

_ Well beat the drum and hold the phone, the sun came out today. _

_ We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field. _

_ A-rounding third, and headed for home, _

_ It’s a brown-eyed handsome man, _

_ Anyone can understand the way I feel. _

 

The team lost any pretense of dignity. By the last line everyone, even the non-native English speakers and the grumpy team captain, were belting out the song.

 

_ Put me in coach, I’m ready to play today. _

_ Put me in coach, I’m ready to play today. _

_ Look at me, I can be _

_ Centerfield. _

 

Ginny risked a glance at Red, positive the coach was going to start hitting all of them for not taking practice seriously. Sure enough, he had his characteristic scowl on, but then to her complete and utter shock, she watched his mouth move along with the words. Ginny quickly glanced around, looking for signs of the apocalypse because surely it was coming if Red was singing during batting practice.

“I think it’s time to give you your own handshake,” Blip announced when he left the field.

“Hey, I just got a handshake last week and I got called up three months ago,” the new kid, Williamson, objected.

“I know,” Blip agreed dismissively. And in the matter of thirty seconds, Mi-Lin had her very own authentic Padres handshake, for use only by her and only with a member of the Padres. 

Livan swaggered into the box and nonchalantly raised his bat to his shoulder, looking for all the world like he couldn’t care less what was happening around him. But Ginny knew him well and she could see by the tension in his shoulders and the white knuckled grip on the bat that he was nervously awaiting whatever song Mi-Lin had chosen for him.

 

_ Havana, ooh na-na _

_ Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na _

_ He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na _

_ But my heart is in Havana _

_ There’s somethin’ ‘bout his manners _

_ Havana ooh na-na _

 

The tension dissipated from the muscles in Livan’s body and he actually laughed. He turned to face Mi-Lin, pointing his bat at her. “Well done  _ chica _ ,” he told her before settling back in the box to avoid being hit by the frustrated Red.

Ginny felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Omar, his hand already out in invitation. Without hesitation, she let him pull her to her feet and into a salsa dance. The team had seen the two of them dance together before so no one even raised an eyebrow in surprise. Instead two relievers and a couple of utility players repeated the gesture and soon a third of the Padres team were performing salsa dances around the backstop with various level of coordination.

“Ignore them,” Livan told Mi-Lin as he conceded his place in the batting cage. “Their dancing is a sacrilege. I’ll teach you the right way to salsa if you want to learn.” And with a wink, Livan left a slightly flustered Mi-Lin blushing as he moved to settle against the far side of the batting fence. 

Several more players took their turns to the music chosen specifically for them to the laughter and light-hearted teasing from the team. Through all of it, the players made sure to complement Mi-Lin’s choices and include her on their inside jokes. Ginny’s heart warmed as she watched her group of idiots enjoy each other and the music. Every one of them could have, in fact probably should have, refused to participate in something that was such a major change in routine. Yet here they were, thoroughly enjoying themselves and making Mi’s day even more special.

Finally it was Lawson’s turn to bat and he casually stepped into the box as the players around him tried to guess the upcoming song. Mi-Lin made them wait a full five seconds before hitting the button to cue his music.

 

_ Clean shirt, new shoes _

_ And I don’t know where I am going to _

_ Silk suit, black tie, _

_ I don’t need a reason why _

_ They come running just as fast as they can _

_ ‘Cause every girl crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man _

  
  


Mike turned to face the women, his exasperation clear. Mi-Lin smiled at him tentatively, obviously unsure of how to react. In contrast, Ginny wouldn’t meet his eyes. She looked over her shoulder at the speakers, then glanced at different sections of the stadium as if looking for the source of the music. Then after a quick peek at the players so they could all see her smirk, she studied her fingernails in such an exaggerated manner that the entire team knew exactly who had chosen the song. 

“Why ZZ Top,” Butch asked in curiosity. 

Ginny grinned in triumph and met Mike’s stare. “Because he looks like a cousin from Duck Dynasty.”

They players laughed at Mike’s dramatic eye roll and continued to laugh through much of the song as they called out helpful suggestions on things like beard care and the proper way to wear camouflage.

As Lawson gave way to the next batter, he moved to stand nearly toe to toe with Ginny, leaning over her as she sat next to Mi. “Really Baker? You had to ruin this kid’s brilliance just so you could hear this song? How selfish.” He gave his head a shake in mock disapproval. “I’m disappointed in you, rookie.”

Ginny made a dismissive noise and Mike smiled at Mi-Lin, giving her a faint tip of his cap before walking away. Ginny's eyes shot to Mi to see if she recognized the small gesture as the huge sign of respect that it was. Judging by the tears welling in the teens eyes, she recognized Mike’s message completely.

“Omar, get in there so we can end the fun and games and get back to real practice,” Red shouted, his voice not nearly as gruff as what his words were. And as the team stared in absolute shock, the corners of Red’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Holy shit, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Red smile,” Salvi whispered.

“I’m not sure that was a smile,” Mi-Lin pointed out nervously. “He looks like he wants to throw me out of Petco.”

“Oh no, that’s absolutely a smile for Red,” Ginny contradicted, clearly awed. “I had no idea he even knew how.”

As Omar wound his way through the players and settled into the batter’s box, Ginny watched Mi fidget in her chair. Her fingers drummed on the soundboard and she chewed on her lip. If Ginny didn’t know better she would think that the girl was nervous.

“Are you okay,” Ginny murmured. 

“Kind of,” Mi-Lin whispered back.

“Well don’t be nervous. You’re among friends here. Plus Omar is a great guy. You’ll never have to worry about him.”

Mi-Lin’s eyes lit up at Ginny’s reassurance. And then with a sudden devilish grin that made Ginny more than a little nervous herself, Mi pressed the button to cue up Omar’s music.

 

_ Dear future husband _

_ Here’s a few things you’ll need to know _

_ If you wanna be my one and only all my life. _

 

Omar spun to face the women, his mouth open and eyes wide in shock. Ginny’s deer-in-headlights look met his, her finger already pointing at Mi.  Instead of looking away and playing surprised like Ginny had done to Mike, Mi-Lin just grinned at Omar, not making any pretense of embarrassment at her song choice. That was just as well because Omar was obviously embarrassed enough for the both of them. And when Mi winked at him his face flamed as red as Ginny had ever seen. With a shake of his head, Omar composed himself and settled back into the batter’s box, the back of his neck still bright with his blush.

“Okay guys, the fun stuff is over,” Ginny called out as Omar gratefully stepped out of the box and behind several players. “Now it’s time to get focused.”

“About goddamn time,” Red muttered loud enough for the entire stadium to hear.

Hanan stepped in and visibly held his breath, waiting for the song to cue. 

 

_ We can be heroes everywhere we go _

_ We can have all that we ever want _

_ Swinging like Ali, knocking out bodies _

_ Standing on top like a champion _

_ Keep your silver, give me that gold _

_ You'll remember when I say _

_ We can be heroes everywhere we go _

_ Keeping us down is impossible _

_ 'Cause we're unstoppable _

  
  


Red threw the ball and Hanan turned on the pitch, burying it ten rows back into the left field seats. The dynamic among the players changed as the driving music played. Gone was the lighthearted banter, and in its place was the necessary focus that a team with a combined batting average of .243 needed. 

The minute Hanan was done, Hinkley was on his heels ready to swing before the music even cued. 

 

_ I'm not afraid, To take a stand _

_ Everybody, Come take my hand  _

_ We'll walk this road together, through the storm _

_ Whatever weather, cold or warm _

_ Just letting you know that, you're not alone _

_ Holla if you feel like you've been down the same road _

 

And suddenly everyone wanted to hit. More importantly though, they players  _ were  _ hitting. Not just the standard batting practice 500 ft home runs that were worthless in the actual games. These were the line drives to the gap, hits scattered across the entire outfield, home run balls that stayed fair and landed just far enough back that even the best outfielders didn’t stand a chance of pulling them back in. Back to back it continued, the players feeding off whatever momentum suddenly drove the team.

Lawson stepped into the batting cage, looking every inch the Hall of Fame player he would undoubtedly be someday in the future. His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed on Red, almost willing the ball to hurry up and leave the coach’s hand. 

  
  


_ They say we are what we are, _

_ But we don't have to be, _

_ I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way, _

_ I'll be the watcher (watcher) of the eternal flame, _

_ I'll be the guard dog of all your favorite dreams, _

 

Two line drives to the pitchers shagging balls in the outfield brought tension to his shoulders that Ginny knew meant he was getting frustrated. A frustrated Mike meant a Mike that wasn’t wasn’t the free-swinging, smooth motion batter that the Padres had counted on for years. Ginny made eye contact with Blip, and she opened her mouth to start razing Mike, like they had before the game they thought would be his last as a Padre.

 

_ 'Cause we could be immortals, immortals _

_ Just not for long, for long, _

_ And live with me forever now, _

_ You pull the blackout curtains down, _

_ Just not for long, for long _

 

As soon as the chorus hit, Mike’s shoulders lowered, his elbow rose in his classic stance and the ball exploded off his bat. Suddenly the balls were being buried ten rows deep in the stands, whether he pulled the ball to left or drove down center field. His homer to right field looked like little more than a flick of his wrist, yet it went far beyond what most players could hit.  

As his turn ended, Mike headed straight towards Mi-Lin. Without a word he crouched down and said something too low for Ginny to hear, even though she was only a few feet away. She could only watch in growing astonishment as Mike Lawson, all-around jerk and diva, patiently taught Mi-Lin his personal handshake. 

A sharp whistle from the dugout signaled the end of the Padres batting practice. The rookies trotted out to the field, cleaning up any stray baseballs that hadn’t already been fielded and returned to the bucket. 

“Hey, Ginny didn’t get a song,” Salvi called out. The players froze in their tracks and turned as one to face the women. 

Ginny gave a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t get one because I didn’t bat.”

Sonny gasped in outrage. “That’s not true! You wouldn’t do that, would you Mi-Lin?”

The teen straightened in her chair. “Of course I wouldn’t, Sonny. I can’t believe you even said that,” she said with disappointment.

“Well then, what is it,” Melky demanded.

Accepting the inevitable, Ginny stood up and grabbed a bat on the way to the box. “I’ll just bunt a couple,” she reassured Red, hoping that he’d let it go just this once. A pitcher never batted pregame on a day they weren’t starting and never, ever batted the day after a start. She silently willed Red to throw her a couple. The man looked at her, glanced at Mi-Lin’s hopeful expression and with a huge sigh, he stepped back behind the pitcher’s screen. 

“You have five pitches,” he growled at her and she quickly nodded in agreement. The players all watched Mi-Lin push the button, several nearly giggling in anticipation. 

 

_ Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns _

_ Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons? _

_ You're the saddest bunch I ever met _

_ But you can bet before we're through _

_ Mister, I'll make a man out of you _

  
  


Two hours later the team was still laughing and joking about their chosen songs when Ginny knocked on the door to the newly installed Padres quiet room. Of course, it went without saying that it’s unofficial name was the Lawson nap room, at least as far as Ginny was concerned.

It had quickly become apparent that the batting practice had taken a lot out of Mi, and Blip had quietly suggested to Ginny that maybe the exhausted teen could benefit from a rest while the team began their pregame rituals. After a short argument, Mi had given in as soon as Ginny promised to wake her the second anything exciting happened.

After a minute, a groggy Mi-Lin opened the door. For the first time since she had meet the teen, Ginny could see what sheer force of will had hidden. Mi’s skin was pale and her eyes dark rimmed from exhaustion. Her shoulders were slumped, making her look even smaller than her already tiny size. Suddenly, Mi-Lin looked every bit of the dying child that she was. Ginny had to cough twice before she could speak around the sudden tightening of her throat.

“Hey girl, I thought you might want a few minutes to get ready for your next surprise,” Ginny said, struggling to keep her voice light.

It took a second for the words to sink in, but in a blink of an eye, the exhaustion vanished and her vibrant personality returned. “What’s my surprise?”

“Get changed, and I’ll tell you as we get ready,” Ginny told her before pulling the door closed. 

Less than a minute passed before the door was yanked open and Mi stepped out. “Okay, now what’s my surprise?”

Ginny headed towards the front office, making sure to keep her steps short so Mi could keep up. “I have a stylist here that wants to help you get ready for your big debut.”

“What big debut,” Mi asked suspiciously.

“You’re television debut of course,” Ginny said nonchalantly. “You’re going to throw out the first pitch tonight. It’s nationally televised and, while I don’t think you need to, I thought I’d let you decide if you want to dress up for it.” Ginny kept her gaze on the hall in front of her, too afraid to actually look at Mi-Lin and see her reaction. When there wasn’t an immediate response to her statement, Ginny’s heart began to pound in anxiety.

“You don’t have to do it, of course. I just wanted to give you a chance..,” she began.

“Why are you doing this,” Mi asked quietly.

Ginny turned around to find that Mi had stopped several feet behind her. “Doing what?”

“Being so nice to me. Why are you doing this? No one is this nice without a reason.”

Ginny thought about her words carefully. She had the feeling that whatever she said next was of monumental importance to Mi-Lin, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt the girl that had already gone through so much. But all of her PR training hadn’t prepared her for this and in the end, she went with the truth.

“It’s not for recognition, if that’s what you think. I don’t want anyone to know about this because it's only between you and me. It’s just that if I had a sister, I would want someone to do this for her. Everyone deserves to have a dream come true.”

It must have been the right thing to say because Ginny was nearly knocked off her feet by Mi’s sudden hug. 

“Do you think they’ll have time to give me a Mohawk,” Mi asked after stepping back. “For the first time in my life my hair has grown long enough that I think I could really pull one off. Maybe dye it purple, too?”

Ginny burst out in laughter. “I’m not sure there’s time, but you can always ask.”

 

*********************

 

It nearly went off without a hitch. In her brand new Padres jersey with Baker on the back, Mi Lin was escorted from the tunnel by a Padres employee and she proudly walked to stand several feet in front of the mound. She waved to the crowd that applauded politely as she was introduced.

Ginny smiled at the girl and nodded before crouching down behind home plate to receive the pitch. It wasn’t a bad throw, but Ginny did have to rise from her crouch to catch the ball that would have been about chest high to a seven foot tall batter. 

She trotted out to meet Mi in the grass, already pulling a Sharpie from her back pocket to autograph the ball as required. It wasn’t until she stopped in front of Mi that she could see how desperately pale the teen was. 

“Mi, what’s wrong,” she asked, keeping her face tipped down so the cameras couldn’t pick up anything she was saying.

“I’m so dizzy,” Mi said, her voice so low that Ginny read as much as heard what she said. “I don’t think I can walk back.”

Without hesitation, Ginny turned her back to Mi and crouched once more. “Climb on. You can be the first person over the age of eight to get to ride the Ginny Express.”

“Are you going to get in trouble,” Mi worried as she slowly leaned into Ginny.

Ginny made sure Mi was secure against her back before rising. Thank God for all those squats and balance ball exercises she did every day because otherwise she might not have been as confident that she could do it without stumbling. But Mi-Lin was light, way too light, and Ginny had years of obsessive exercising under her belt and she easily carried the girl back to the tunnel. 

“Wave at them,” she told Mi. “They’re all worried about you.” 

Sure enough, there was a nervous buzz around the stadium. Everyone knew that a player never made contact with a fan, and there wasn’t a person alive that would have thought that this piggy back ride was normal, especially when it came from a pitcher that was still being watched like a hawk by the medical staff. But then Mi waved and gave her huge, million watt smile, and the entire stadium sighed in relief. There was an explosion of applause that continued until Ginny and Mi entered the tunnel and disappeared from view.

 

**************************************

 

Ginny took a couple of more practice swings as she watched the rookie McMillan be intentionally walked by the Dodgers. The kid was on fire, hitting .341 since his call up two weeks ago, and it would have been frankly stupid to pitch to him with one out. Instead, the pitcher put him on first to get to her, gambling that she would hit into a double play instead of striking out. It was a risk for sure, because if she didn’t ground out, the pitcher would end up facing Omar next with at least one runner on base, and Omar was the best lead-off hitter in the game since the All-Star break. Ginny gave a mental shrug at the slap to her hitting abilities and tapped the handle of her bat against the on deck circle to drop the weight from her bat. She would have done the same thing if facing someone that had one hit for the season. 

At the start of her walk-up song, she took a deep breath and slowly paced towards the batter’s box. 

 

_ Some legends are told _

_ Some turn to dust or to gold _

_ But you’ll remember me, _

_ Remember me for centuries. _

_ Just one mistake _

_ Is all it will take, _

_ We’ll go down in history _

_ Remember me for centuries _

  
  


A buzz of excitement went through the crowd as they recognized the change in her walk-up song. Instantly fans sang along, their voices clearly heard despite the volume driving from the stadium speakers.

The Padres players exchanged glances, the dugout filled with a sudden wariness. A player  _ never  _ changed their walk up song. Never. Not only because it was a massive headache for the tech guys to have to change all the cues in the sound programming systems either. It was considered very bad luck in baseball lore. It was like changing your cleats when you were on a hitting streak; you just didn’t do it. It was only slightly,  _ very _ slightly, better than kissing a teammate’s sister or stepping on the chalk lines on the way out to the field. And to change it during a playoff run? Unheard of. 

Mike and Blip shared a long look. This wasn’t good. Mike had a bad feeling in his chest and Blip’s expression said he did, too. Several players voiced opinions about the change of music as the Padres lined up along the fence and watched their pitcher settle into the batter’s box. Ginny tapped a hello onto the catcher’s shoulder before digging her back foot into the dirt. She stared at her bat and took a couple of deep breaths before bringing her front foot in and settling into her stance. The Dodgers’ starter nodded at his catcher in acknowledgement of the pitch call and then begin his motion. The fastball cut in towards her knees, the pitcher obviously aware of her inability to hit anything on the inside corner. 

The crack of the ball off the bat brought the fans to their feet. With growing excitement, the stadium watched as the ball sailed towards dead center field. The centerfielder sprinted backwards, only to pull up when it became obvious that the ball was far beyond his reach. 

The stadium went crazy as soon as the ball landed in the bleachers. The players in the dugout pumped their arms and clapped and generally celebrated like they had never seen a home run before. The bullpen tossed their gloves in the air as if Ginny had single handedly defended the honor of all pitchers and their batting abilities. But the fans... the fans took it to a new level. They stomped their feet, cheered, and generally lost their minds at a level reserved for winning the World Series. The stadium was so loud, it completely drowned out the fireworks shot off in celebration. 

And through it all, Ginny kept her head down and ran around the bases at a speed only slightly slower than a sprint. There was no home run trot for Ginny Baker. She ran the bases like all she wanted to do was get back in the dugout so she wouldn’t delay the game any further. No one could accuse her of showing up the pitcher, that’s for sure. In fact, she’d undoubtedly catch some good-natured teasing from the sports world for turning in the fastest home run trot of the season.

McMillan was waiting for her at home, his hands already raised for the high fives that started the Padres’ ridiculously complex celebratory handshake. Players lined up in the dugout, making her walk a lighthearted gauntlet of helmet smacks, back pats, and newly invented home run dances.  Her mask of intensity momentarily fell away as the antics of her teammates had her laughing. 

Eventually the team drifted back to the fence to cheer Omar’s double. Ginny stripped off her batting gear and grabbed her mitt before heading to the corner of the dugout. Mike nudged Blip as Ginny passed by and both men watched as she settled into the very corner spot, pulled her hat low on her brow, and stared down at her shoes, never once raising her head to watch the field.

“Any idea what’s going on,” Blip muttered to Mike, keeping his voice low.

“Not a clue. She hasn’t said anything.”

“Well don’t ask now.”

Mike shot him a dirty look. “You must be out of your mind if you think I’m going to upset my pitcher when she’s pitching a hell of a game.”

The men had been friends way too long for Blip to be intimidated by a glare. “Mike, you’d upset her in a heartbeat if that’s what it took for her to get the job done.”

“You may have a point,” Mike conceded with a crooked grin.

Both men glanced back at the corner of the dugout. “Still, I wonder what’s going on?”

 

********************

 

‘What’s up with Baker’ became the mantra of the dugout. Every Padre asked each other that question over and over as the game progressed. Of course, not one of them approached her to ask. Oh no, no one was talking to her. In fact, no one was even looking at her. 

Ginny Baker had a no-hitter going through the seventh inning. And just like the last time, the Padres stopped talking to her in the fifth and stopped even looking at her in the sixth. Now the team wouldn’t even sit on the same bench with her. If it went into the ninth, the team would come up with a way to not even breath the same air in the dugout. 

When the team had started avoiding her during her last brush with perfection, it had annoyed her. After all, what reasonable adult believed in jinxes, let alone one so stupid that even making eye contact could ruin a chance at history. She had argued and teased the team to no avail. This time, Ginny didn’t object to the isolation. In fact, the minute she left the mound, she went straight to her corner of the dugout, not bothering to make eye contact, let alone conversation, with her teammates.

It did put the team in an awkward spot, though. In the bottom of the seventh, Ginny hit a long sac fly to right field that drove in Hinkley from second, giving Ginny her third RBI of the night. As Ginny trotted back to the dugout, the Padres froze in panic. In a normal situation, the entire team would be lined up for more high fives and helmet smacks. It wasn’t often a pitcher got an RBI after all, and it certainly deserved to be celebrated. But if the team gave her the acknowledgement that her hitting deserved, they might jinx her no-hitter. Even the veterans exchanged panicked gazes, at a loss on how to handle this unprecedented situation. 

Ginny glanced up in time to see the entire dugout staring at her with wide eyes, like a herd of deer in headlights. Even Mike Lawson, veteran captain and admitted know-it-all, looked like he was ready to pee his pants at the thought of having to talk to her. It was comical enough that her mask of composure softened to allow an eye roll so obvious the players saw it from forty feet away. When that made them all look even more panicked (who knew it was even possible to be more panicked?), she took pity on the whole lot of them. She kept her head down and jogged to the back stairs into the dugout, keeping well behind the players so even if they wanted to say something, they didn’t have the opportunity. The collective sighs of relief from the team nearly parted her hair and she had a brief moment of affection for the group of idiots that she called teammates.

 

**********************************************

 

For a year Ginny had steered clear of offering an opinion on the bunt that sent her to the DL. Her teammates, other players, and even Hall Of Fame veterans of the game had sounded off for weeks about bunting to break up a no-hitter. It was universally acknowledged that it was huge break with tradition, and it broke one of the most sacred of unwritten rules, the one that clearly stated that bunting to break up a no-hitter was at best a dirty trick and at worst a slap in the face to a pitcher who was beating you fairly. While her teammates and other veterans around the league had decried the bunt, Ginny was careful to shrug and give a canned response whenever asked.

It was a nearly unbelievable coincidence that had Ahern batting against Ginny in the eighth in the midst of another no-hitter. What wasn’t a coincidence  was the fact that she hit him with the first pitch of his at bat. All three men behind the plate, the ump, Mike and Ahern, looked at her with the same bemused expression, like they couldn’t believe her luck was so bad that her perfect game was broken up by the same guy that cost her a no-hitter a season ago. 

As Ahern trotted to first, Mike stood and slowly lifted his mask. Even from sixty feet away she could see his eyes narrow with suspicion. She turned away and paced back behind the mound to tap the dirt from her cleats, refusing to give him any more reason to doubt the nature of the hit. A deep breath was all it took to clear her mind and bring her focus back to where it belonged; on the baseball in her hand.

Five pitches later, the second hitter of the inning slammed his bat against the ground in frustration at his third strike out of the game. As he stormed towards his dugout, Ginny turned her back to the plate and bounced the rosin bag several times in her hand, both to dry the sweat making her palm increasingly slick and to avoid any unnecessary distractions from the Dodgers as they tried to get into her head by having several players put on batting gear as if one of them was going to be pinch hitting.

Her focus was so intense that she didn’t hear anyone approach until she heard cleats land on the dirt of her mound. She turned to confront whatever player was suicidal enough to touch a pitcher’s sanctum, only to see Al at the edge of the mound. He didn’t have to say anything, his expression said it all.

“No,” she told him, her voice not nearly as commanding as she had hoped. “You can’t.”

When Al didn’t immediately reply, she turned to Mike, her catcher, the one guy that was always in her corner. Surely he would stick up for her, convince Al to let her finish her no hitter. “Mike, don’t let him do this,” she told him, not caring if it sounded like she was pleading. Instead of instant support, Mike just looked at her in silence.

“It’s not his choice to make Baker,” Al told her. Her gaze returned to him in time to see him tap his right arm.

Ginny didn’t turn around to see what righty they were bringing in. She flipped the ball to her manager and strode towards the dugout, not acknowledging anything either man had to say. She kept her eyes focused on the grass in front of her, trying to control the need to go back to the mound and punch Al in the teeth for daring to pull her out of the game.  _ Her  _ game, the one that would have given her a no-hitter, a near legendary feat in the world of baseball. The feat that would have cemented the knowledge that she really did belong in the majors, in her mind as well as the world’s. 

She gritted her teeth and accepted the high-fives and back slaps from her teammates in the dugout only because every camera in the stadium was on her and any image they got would be shown for years to come. She didn’t need the world to watch her snub her teammates when they were only trying to congratulate her. So she pretended to be okay with getting pulled from the game and casually grabbed a cup of Gatorade from the cooler before drifting back to her corner of the dugout. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, giving the image of a tired player, not one shaking in anger.

She didn’t need to look to know who sat down next to her. “The front office called down and said you had to come out. The pitch count was a hard rule, no matter what. They wouldn’t wave it.”

“Not now,” she bit out, not taking her eyes off of her shoes to look at the pitching coach.

“They’re only trying…,” the pitching coach began again. 

Ginny shot up off the bench and crossed the dugout, ignoring the comments from her teammates as she pounded down the stairs into the clubhouse and the desperately needed solitude that it afforded her.

  
  


************************************

  
  


“Cap, you’ve got to do something.”

Mike held up his hand for silence and the rookie obediently stopped talking. From the clubhouse came  a heavy thud, followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass. He didn’t even have to scan the dugout to know who was missing.

“How long has she been in there?”

The pitching coach came up beside him. “Since Javanes’ second pitch.” Mike hid his sigh. Of course pitch count was how the coach measured time. Sometimes Mike thought the coaching staff spent a little too much time in baseball and, coming from him, that was saying something.

“Did anyone try to talk to her?”

The players in the dugout all shot him an incredulous look. Hell no, no one had tried to talk to her, their expressions told him. No one ever went anywhere near an angry pitcher except for the catcher and  _ maybe _ a coach. And on top of that, there wasn’t a man in the Padres that was willing to test a woman’s temper. No one had ever seen Ginny really, genuinely furious, but they didn’t want to chance it. In their minds, mixing a starting pitcher’s tantrum with a woman’s ability to hit spontaneous combustion at one poorly chosen word left the entire team willing to run bare ass naked onto the field to avoid having to talk Ginny down from whatever ledge she was on.

“I tried to tell her it was the FO’s call.” The coach spit tobacco juice onto the dugout floor. “I guess I should be grateful that she took it to the clubhouse instead of out here for the world to see.” He dropped his voice, trying to keep the conversation private. “If they had pulled me four outs away from a no-hitter when I was pitching, I would have burned the stadium down.”

The players that had surrounded the two men nodded their agreement. Every one of them was angry on her behalf and most of them could admit that they would have raised hell about being pulled. Some of them would have needed to be removed from the mound in handcuffs before they would let their chance at history be taken from them.

The sound of wood cracking had all eyes back on the tunnel to the clubhouse. “Shit,” Mike muttered to himself. In a louder tone, he said, “Let me know when there are two outs or I’m on deck.” He paused to look around the dugout. “It’d be good for all of us if you could do better than three up/three down, right boys?”

Thirty-eight heads fervently nodded in agreement. The more time Mike had to calm Ginny down, the less likely they were to have to face it after the game.

“Hey Mike. Under no circumstances should you ever tell her ‘you’re overreacting’.” Salvi shrugged when Mike turned to give him a disbelieving look. “What? I’m just trying to save you from a lot of apologies.”

Mike opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it and turned away with a head shake. 

Ginny wasn’t in the main clubhouse like Mike had expected. Instead, he followed the dirty cleat prints and occasional damaged item into the bowels of the stadium. He slowed down as he passed her once pristine Padres cap, taking in the cleat mark that clearly explained it’s flattened shape, but continued on to her end point. When he rounded the corner, he came to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t the obvious sounds of baseballs hitting tarps that stopped him. It was the Padres jersey crumpled on the floor just outside of the door that did it. Several of the buttons were lying on the ground by the jersey, indicating that she had torn her jersey off and thrown it at the wall. A quick glance around revealed no other clothes, so at least he wouldn’t be walking in on a naked pitcher throwing fastballs. 

That didn’t reassure him nearly as much as it should have because, dressed in full uniform or nothing at all, Ginny Baker still threw the ball hard enough to injure someone if she wanted to and, given her reaction to him on the mound, he wasn’t one hundred percent confident that she wouldn’t bean him.

She didn’t pause her motion when he came to stand outside of the mesh screen lining the pitching cage. Instead, she kept pitching for several minutes and refused to acknowledge him. 

He finally gave in. “Whatcha doing, Baker?”

“Finishing my no-hitter. How about you get your ass back on the field and at least try to get me a win? Surely you can support that.”

Mike hid his grimace, not that she was looking at him anyways. Her eyes were glued to the taped strike zone on the tarp sixty feet and six inches away from her. He’d never seen her this angry, so angry that she lost her famous control. She never completely dropped the professional veneer that kept her emotional extremes hidden from the outside world that could use them against her. She had certainly shown anger and happiness, but never fury or elation. But today he was finally seeing glimpses of the true Ginny Baker, the one that was so intense that she didn’t want to deal with her teammates; the one that was so furious that she lashed out, both physically and verbally. It meant she finally trusted them and it was about time it happened; he just wished it hadn’t taken a stolen no-hitter to cause it. 

Several more fastballs hit the tarp before he tried again. “You were coming out of the game. There was nothing you or I could say that would change that.”

She spun on him and threw the ball into the mesh above his head. It wouldn’t have hit him, she would never do that, but it startled him enough to duck and jump back several feet. 

“How would you know? You didn’t bother trying. Or maybe I missed one of your famous speeches?” Her words were thrown as effectively as her pitches. He could feel each one hitting him in the chest, making his heart hurt, not at her tone, but at the hidden meaning behind them.

“I would have said something if it would have done any good. Having an argument on the mound wouldn’t have done anything except embarrass our manager and it would cost Al his job to ignore the FO again. Especially after what happened the last time he did it.” They both knew that he was referring to her last brush with history that ended with her on the DL for six months.

A shout echoed down the hall from the clubhouse. He was being called back to the dugout, either for the ninth inning or his turn to bat. Mike braced himself for Ginny’s next attack, but she surprised him. She turned away from him and picked up another ball, blatantly dismissing him.

“You better get back out there. Some of your teammates still count on you.”

Anger quickly replaced his calm. No one ignored, let alone dismissed, him. No one. “Well, when you’re done with your tantrum and think you can act like a big girl, you’re welcome to come back and support some of those teammates that are going to help you win the game. Until then, keep your diva ass away from my team.”

Righteous anger propelled him to the door, his metal cleats ringing loud in the charged silence of the cage. As he opened the door he heard another thwack of a ball against the tarp but in that split second before the door closed behind him, he thought he heard a sound, one he didn’t immediately recognize. It was only as he trotted out to take his spot behind home plate that he recognized the sound for what it was.

Ginny Baker was crying.

 

*********************************************

  
  


The team entered the clubhouse to find no sign of Ginny or any damage she may have caused. Several players glanced at the closed door of her dressing room, but none of them actually dared to approach it. Instead, they showered and changed in a hurry, the normally boisterous team subdued as they tried to dress before the press was allowed in. 

No members of the press requested access to the clubhouse that night. Instead, they were all crammed into the media room, packed wall to wall to get a chance to ask Ginny Baker what she thought of being pulled from the game. As the team watched on the tvs in the clubhouse, their starting pitcher answered questions with the poise and professionalism that a PR department would kill for. 

Was she disappointed to be pulled during a no-hitter? Of course she was disappointed, but it wasn’t her call to make.

What was it like to know that Ahern played a key role in costing her a history-making game again?  It was just one of those things that happened. Baseball was like that.

Where did she disappear to after she was pulled? She had to use the bathroom and figured she’d take a shower while she was there so everyone didn’t have to be crammed into a small room with a sweaty ballplayer. Although she said it with a straight face, the reporters laughed like it was one of the funniest things they had heard in a while. 

“Damn she’s good,” Melky announced to the room at large. “You would never guess that she flipped her shit, would you?”

“I don’t know you could call it ‘flipping her shit’,” Shrek protested. “We’ve all done something like that.”

“I swear to God, if you bring up that broken mirror one more time,” Hanan began.

“Hey, they pulled Lawson in,” Melky interrupted. Sure enough, the captain settled into a chair next to Baker looking like he loved every second of his time in front of a camera.

“Huh, didn’t realize he was that good of an actor,” Berger said after a minute. “You can’t tell he was ready to kill her when he came back to the dugout.” Several heads nodded in agreement. 

Hinkley came out of the trainer’s room with an ice pack wrapped to his elbow. “Is anyone else heading out?”

The team just stared. “Are you stupid? Of course not. Baker pitched a great game and none of us got to congratulate her,” Salvi told him.

“We all told her good job in the dugout,” Hinkley argued defensively.

“Then leave if you want. The rest of us will be waiting for her to finish the press conference,” Blip told him. With a huff, Hinkley slunk back to his chair, grudgingly giving in to the pressure to be a good teammate. 

“Do you think she’ll be mad that we’re still here,” Javanes asked. 

The men quieted to think on that. “Oh shit, I hadn’t thought of that,” Berger worried out loud.

With a sigh, Livan pushed out of his chair. “I’ll get her. If she’s mad, I’ll text you and you all better be gone by the time we get back. She’s been upset enough today.”

 

***********************

 

“Thank you for not punching me,” Livan told Ginny, casually dropping an arm around her shoulders. 

Ginny gave a shrug to dislodge his arm, but he just tightened his hold and she gave in. It meant a lot more to him to have his arm around her than it meant to her to have his arm away from her. One thing she had learned with the Padres is that guys could be even more huggy than women, and her team was even more so than most. “I’m not angry enough to break my hand on your hard head,” she replied.

“Well, me and the twins I have a date with tonight thank you for that,” he told her with a grin that brought both dimples into full effect.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You are such a hound dog.”

Livan laughed. “How am I supposed to tell all of these women no when they hit on me? My _abuela_ raised me to believe that I should never tell a woman no.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Okay, let me drive your car.”

Livan didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not.”

Ginny hip checked him. “I thought you wouldn’t tell a woman no.”

“First of all, I didn’t tell you no, I told you absolutely not. Second, you’re not a woman, you’re my pitcher. There’s a difference.” 

Ginny ducked out from under his arm. “Livan, I can be both a woman and a pitcher.”

“Not while you’re on my team, you can’t.”

She abruptly stopped walking. “And exactly what does that mean?”

One glance at her face had him shaking his head. “You have trust issues,  _ mami.  _ I meant that while I’m your catcher, you have to act and think like every other ball player. I understand baseball players. But women make no sense. If you act like a woman, I won’t even be able to approach the mound without worrying about what mood you’re in, or if you’re mad about something I said a month ago.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she told him with exasperation. “Women aren’t that hard to get along with.”

“ _ Mami,  _ there are times even I have a hard time figuring out what’s going on in a woman’s mind, and I’m an expert on women.”

Ginny snorted in amusement. “You’re only an expert in one night stands,” she corrected. “And I’m not sure you would even know how to talk to a woman if she didn’t hit on you first. I’ll probably have to tutor you if you do actually get a woman to go on a date with you outside of your bedroom.”

The phone in Livan’s hand buzzed and after scanning the text he quickly typed a reply. Ginny stepped close to try and read the screen but Livan quickly turned his back to her. “Who was that,” she asked. “Your booty call?”

“Nope.” He threw an arm around her shoulders and steered her back down the hallway. “That was your teammates.”

This time Ginny elbowed him in the ribs to get him to move his arm. “What did they want? You saw each other all of three minutes ago.”

“They wanted to see if you were in a bad mood because if you were, they were all going to leave before you got back to the clubhouse.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Livan watched Ginny’s smile fade. After a moment she asked, “Are they all in the clubhouse waiting?”

“ _ Si _ . Do you want me to tell them to go?”

Ginny stopped and stared down the hallway towards the clubhouse. Livan knew that look. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, prepared for the wait. Sure enough, it took several moments for her to make a decision. 

“No, it’s fine. Let’s go see them.”

As soon as she entered the clubhouse, a voice called out, “And here’s the Padres’ Babe Ruth!”

Ginny tried to dodge the hands messing with her hair. “Not even close, Blip.”

“She’s even better,” Shrek called out. “Babe never hit a homer in a game he pitched!” Ginny shook her head at that random fact, but a smile escaped.

Salvi stepped in and gave her a hug that lifted her feet off the floor. She had long since accepted that Salvi didn’t understand personal space. He hugged whomever hit a home run, someone having problems at home or great news to share, and just anyone in general that he thought deserved one of his great ‘man hugs’. Salvi loved hugs. It was just his thing.

“We were going to give you the Gatorade bath that you deserved, but Clubbie said he would shrink all of our uniforms if we did,” Melky told her.

“That’s not what did it,” Shrek contradicted. “It was when Omar said it might make Ginny more angry that you changed your mind.” In an instant, it became a team debate as every man had an explanation on why they didn’t celebrate with the traditional Gatorade bath or shaving cream pie to the face.

“Congrats on your home run. Sucks about the no-hitter though,” Hinkley said from beside her.

Ginny faced him and forced a smile. She and Hinkley had never liked each other, and they never would. Hinkley didn’t like the extra attention- both good and bad- that followed her call up to the majors and she thought he was a prick. He wasn’t actively awful to her though, and she was fine with that. So she kept everything professional on her end and to her knowledge, he did the same. 

“Thanks.” She shook his offered hand and expected him to walk away.

Instead, he took a step forward and lowered his voice. “Nice job hitting Ahern. He had it coming.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying I did it on purpose?”

“No, I’m flat out saying it. Good job taking care of it yourself, especially when you gave up a chance at a perfect game to do so. That takes serious balls, Baker.” And with a nod, he was gone.

“So what’s going on with you,” Melky called out when there was a lull in the argument. “You’ve been weird all day.” With interest, thirty-seven pairs of eyes turned to her, expecting an immediate answer. 

The door to Ginny’s changing room opened, saving her from lying to her teammates. As soon as she saw Omar emerge, pain swelled in her chest. He knew. Somehow, he knew. His eyes were dry, but they were still red rimmed, an obvious give away that he had been crying. The team quieted, no one daring to say a word as they waited for Ginny’s reaction to finding Omar in her closet.

Seemingly oblivious to the heavy silence in the room, Omar crossed to the DVD player that played on all the tvs in the clubhouse. He tore open the manilla envelope in his hand and pulled out a disc. Ginny suddenly understood what it was and crossed the room in seconds. “No, don’t. Not here,” she murmured, tugging on his wrist to pull the disc away from the electronics.

Omar yanked his wrist away and spun on her. “Yes, here,” he snarled at her, his face inches from hers. “That’s what you promised, remember?”

“I never promised it would be in front of everyone,” she hissed, leaning forward until they were nearly nose to nose. “You can wait five minutes until they’re all gone.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see several teammates moving quickly to prevent a fight. Ginny stepped back and raised her hands. “I’m fine. We’re all good,” she told Blip and Salvi. Neither seemed to believe her and they both moved between her and Omar. 

“Call-Ups, grab your stuff and head out,” a voice barked from the doorway. “The rest of you, stay put.” A few of the AAA rookies grumbled, but the players that were September veterans quickly silenced them. The clubhouse was eerily silent as it went back to the original twenty-five, minus Hinkley. 

“Now, what the hell was that about?”

Ginny refused to turn around and face Lawson. Anything she said or did would cause a scene, and all she wanted was to be left alone.

Without a word of explanation, Omar turned back to the electronics wall and inserted the DVD into the player. Ginny wanted to escape, her emotions were begging her to run, but her feet remained glued to the floor. She had a promise to keep.

Mi-Lin’s face appeared on the screen. “Ginny, don’t be mad at Omar. He’s only doing what I asked him to.” As one, the team looked from the screen to Ginny, then to Omar. 

After a brief pause, Mi-Lin’s voice continued. “I mean it Baker. Tell him you’re sorry. And Robles, tell her you forgive her and you better mean it, too.” 

The room was silent as they all watched Mi-Lin stare back at them, patiently waiting for Ginny and Omar to act like she had instructed. Ginny stubbornly refused to move, but after a full minute of silence from the video one of the players muttered that he was getting goosebumps because it seemed like the television was alive and watching them all. Salvi elbowed her in the ribs and she gave in to the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” she told Omar when he was close enough to hear her whisper. Without a word, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Apology accepted, it said. 

Less than five seconds later, the Mi-Lin on the television spoke again. “Okay, now that we’re all back to being friends, here’s the reason we’re watching this video.” She gave a shrug and a smile. “I’m dead.”

Everyone in the room sucked in a breath, shocked at the bluntness of her statement. Many of the players followed up with curses, murmurs of sympathy or, in some cases, prayers. The men surrounding Omar and Ginny exchanged meaningful looks. So that’s what had gotten into Baker before the game. She had obviously heard of Mi-Lin’s death sometime before warm-ups, and the player they saw during the game was one struggling to hide her grief from the rest of the world.

“There’s a reason I made Omar and Ginny promise to watch this video in the clubhouse, of course. I’m counting on all of you to be supportive. I’ve been told that a baseball team is just one big family, and I’m hoping that’s truly the case with the Padres. Emotions are funny things that don’t follow any logical rules, and I want all of you to help each other through this.” 

Mi-Lin was quiet for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know some of you didn’t even know me. I’m not expecting emotions from you, dorks. I’m hoping you’ll help Ginny, Omar, and anyone else that might be touched by this. You don’t have to be best friends, but I’m asking you all to be respectful. Even the jerks,” she paused to cough into her hand, and the cough sounded suspiciously like “Mike Lawson”. Laughter filled the clubhouse, bringing some much needed lightness to the atmosphere.

“Now for those of you that need a bit of extra motivation to be decent human beings, let me put it to you this way. Suppose I come back as a ghost. Of course I’ll come visit one of my favorite places, Petco Park. Remember that movie Angels In The Outfield? Yeah, I’m not going to be that kind of ghost. Think of me more as…” she paused dramatically, and several players leaned forward in anticipation, “something you’d see from movies like Poltergeist.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Javanes and Hanan cross themselves, Javanes going so far as to start whispering the Lord’s Prayer.

“So we can do this the easy way or the hard way. If I come back, I can terrorize visiting teams by moving their gear around, breaking bats and losing player’s lucky socks. Or I can come visit your locker and make sure you have a three week slump. It’s your call.” This time several more players crossed themselves and started praying, including one that Ginny knew damn well wasn’t religious at all. Javenes actually dropped to his knees until Butch reached down and hauled him up by the arm.

With a satisfied nod, Mi-Lin continued. “I just wanted to thank you all for welcoming me into the clubhouse and letting me experience a tiny part of your lives. I know you didn’t have to do any of it; I was shocked Ginny and the Padres even agreed. But please know how very, very special this was to me. Without a doubt, it was the highlight of my life.” Several players inhaled sharply and there was a whispered “oh my God” in response to her heartbreaking truth. 

“Now don’t feel sorry for me. I’ll haunt you forever if you do. I’ve been much luckier than many people and I know it. I’ve had doctors and nurses who became like family to me, and no one could have better friends than I do. I mean, how many people do you know that will sleep on the floor for months, so a friend can have the only mattress in the apartment?”

“And while you may consider it presumptuous or pathetic or even ridiculous, I consider many of you friends, too. Well, at least friendly acquaintances. You guys let me into your clubhouse and onto your field. You let me create a playlist for your batting practice and didn’t get upset with the songs I chose. Looking at you, Omar,” Mi-Lin said with a wink and chuckles filled the clubhouse. 

“And most importantly, you let me see some of your life through videos, and you didn’t have to do that. There were days that I was so sick, that the pain was so bad, that the only thing that kept me going was knowing that I was going to get another video from Ginny or another call from Omar.”

“I don’t know how else to make you understand how important you all were to making my life worth fighting for, even for just another month or two. All I can do is say thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” Mi-Lin held up a paper to the camera for them all to see. “My memory is shit now, so I had to write some of this down,” she said with a sheepish smile. “Chemo brain and all that.”

“Okay, so Butch. Thank you for playing my playlist when it was your turn to choose the clubhouse music. And I very much appreciate the compliment that my music is better than the crap your daughters listen to.” Her smile was so infectious that many of the players smiled in return.

“And speaking of daughters, thank you for having your daughters draw me pictures Salvi. They’re on my bedroom walls as we speak.” The image on the screen whirled around to show several crayon sketches adorning the plain walls.

“Javenes, thank you for the St. Jude medal and all of your prayers. Shrek, thank you for being hilarious on camera, even when you didn’t know you were being filmed.” Shrek half-halfheartedly protested being recorded, but the other players quickly hushed him.

“Livan, thank you for being good to look at and way too conceited to actually wear more than the legally required amount of clothing.” Her laughter was shared by the players and the catcher’s cocky smile was tempered by a blush. Ginny’s eyes met Livan’s for a brief moment and at her raised eyebrow, the color on his cheeks darkened. They both knew there was no way she was going to let that blush go without plenty of comments in the future.

“Mike Lawson.” Mi-Lin grinned. “Ginny said I shouldn’t feed your ego because it was already the biggest mountain in North America. So, thank you for being slightly less of a jerk than normal and not banning me from the clubhouse. Not that you have the power, of course. I’m sure that’s just a rumor that captains can do that. I guess I’m grateful you’re getting forgetful in your old age.”

“Baker,” Mike groaned as the team laughed. They all knew who had given Mi-Lin that line.

“I know there are probably more people to thank, so forgive me if I forgot anyone. But I saved the best for last. I promise not to drag this out. I’m too tired to make this a feature film.” She looked more than tired, she looked exhausted. Her eyelids were already drooping and her unnaturally pale skin was nearly translucent. 

“Thank you Ginny, for making me feel like I belong, like I matter. You’re changing the world we live in, you’ve already changed it, yet you’ve told me how lucky you are to have met me. Well, you’re wrong. I’m the lucky one. Very few people ever get to meet their heroes, and even fewer actually admire their heroes after they meet them.” She paused to cough, the sound gut-wrenching and hard to listen to as she struggled to breathe. Ginny turned her gaze to Mike and he knew that she was thinking about Mi-Lin’s words about meeting your hero. He prayed like hell that she wasn’t silently agreeing that meeting someone you looked up to was a lesson in disappointment and pain. 

Another minute passed before Mi-Lin could continue talking. Her voice was hoarse from the coughing fit and softer in volume as exhaustion began to overpower her nonstop drive. “And Omar. You are every bit as special as Ginny, but in a different way. I doubt anyone on the team, in your family, or even your friends know that we talked. You didn’t drive four hours to see me on your one day off just for the good press.” She smiled faintly at the camera. “You did it because we all know Ginny drives like a maniac and might have accidentally gone over a bridge in an effort to shave five minutes off her driving time.” Ginny gave a watery smile as the team laughed in agreement, but didn’t object because she wasn’t sure she could talk around the lump in her throat. 

“You’re one of the good ones, Omar. You do the right things for the right reasons. I know you’re standing there making up a million and one reasons in your head why you’re not. Well, you’re wrong. Ask any of the players and they’ll tell you. There aren’t many people that go out of their way to help someone, but you are one of them.” Mi-Lin paused a second, then continued. “You too, Ginny.”

Ginny covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that she would make a sound and betray to the team that she was barely holding it together. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in the clubhouse in front of them.  She didn’t want anyone to see her tears, to see her weak and maybe judge her for it. But then she glanced over at Omar, and her breath caught in her chest. The second baseman had his eyes locked on the screen as tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. His unabashed show of emotion snapped the thin strand that was holding Ginny’s grief in check. A gasp escaped her, the kind of hiccuping breath that comes from trying to suppress tears for too long. 

The minute Omar’s arm curled around her shoulders, Ginny’s tears overflowed. She tried to stand tall, to own her grief like Omar did, but she couldn’t. She had spent too many years being guarded with her emotions to let go so easily. So she turned into him and hid her face on his shoulder and tried to hold in the sobs. 

Mi-Lin’s voice continued, unknowing of the tears her words had brought. “Well, this has gotten long and I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing me talk. So let me invite you all to my celebration of life party. Heavy emphasis on the party. I’m not sure when, it depends when my friends can all get the money together and find a place cheap enough to rent, but when they do, it will be fun. And whoever cries will be forced to sing karaoke. I’m not talking good karaoke either. I’m talking Smurfs and Barbie songs, or even worse..,” she paused dramatically. “The baby shark song.”

A watery chuckle escaped Ginny. Only Mi-Lin would think of such an effective method to get her way. There wasn’t a man alive who would sing Barbie songs in public and every parent in America would kill a man if it meant not hearing the baby shark song one more time, so it was as good as guaranteed that it would be a rollicking party with not a tear in sight. A chuckle shook Omar’s shoulders and Ginny took a second to wipe her cheeks on his shirt before pulling away and turning towards the screen again. Omar’s arm settled around her shoulders and he gave her a squeeze of comfort. In turn, she wrapped her arm around his waist and returned the hug. 

Mi-Lin suddenly glared at the camera with surprising strength. “If any of you try to even joke about this or talk about Omar and Ginny with anything less than honest respect, I will personally make sure you never hit about .220 again. And pitchers, you can kiss your below 5.00 ERA goodbye.” She held her glare a moment longer before giving a self-satisfied nod, as if she could see Javenes frantically cross himself and begin praying again. 

“Oh, and before I forget, I’d like to request a favor from all of the Padres. Ginny has denied my request, but surely someone can remind her that you should never deny a kid with cancer anything.” Mi-Lin batted her eyes for maximum effect. Several of the players muttered about the cruelty of Ginny towards a dying child. If Ginny was certain her laugh wouldn’t give way to sobs, she would have already been laughing at what was coming and how Mi-Lin was playing them, even in death.

“I’m going to be cremated. I really want some of my ashes to be loaded into the t-shirt cannon and shot across the outfield at Petco Park.” The response from the players was instantaneous. Hanan gave a yelp of surprise. Several players cursed and the outfielders immediately objected to the request. Livan loudly told the group that it was a requirement to honor Mi-Lin’s last request or her soul might never find rest. At that, Javenes and Berger both crossed themselves and and Javenes began his prayers all over again, with Burger muttering along beside him. Above all the voices came the booming sounds of unrestrained laughter. As one, the team turned towards the sound. Mike was laughing, not his usual sarcastic chuckle, but a full belly laugh that shook his entire body and made him look years younger. 

“Be respectful of the dead," Shrek admonished. 

At that, Mike actually laughed harder. He held up his hand to silence the comments until he wound down enough to gasp out words around his continued chuckles. “That kid’s amazing. Ashes out of a t-shirt cannon has to be the best thing I’ve ever heard. When my time comes, that’s  _ exactly  _ what I’m going to do.”

Ginny stepped back from Omar to face her captain. “Why, so you can torment future generations of rookies? You’ve still got a couple of years left to choose your final arrangements, Lawson.”

Mike kept his smile when what he really wanted to do was frown with concern. Baker’s eyes were red and puffy from crying and the silver stream from her tears still showed on her cheeks. Her voice was husky and she sniffed repeatedly, but her shoulders were back and her chin raised in challenge as he met his eyes. 

“Ha ha, very funny Baker,” he retorted. “If you’re done with your commentary, we can finish the video.” He motioned to Blip who had paused the video when the noise overwhelmed Mi-Lin’s weakening voice.

“As a thank you, I’ve made a couple of new playlists for you all and I put together a highlight reel for you to enjoy. Love you!” And with a blown kiss at the screen, Mi-Lin was gone.

After a moment of silence, an image of a crowded Padres’ clubhouse appeared as the opening bars of the accompanying song began. 

 

_ All my friends are heathens, take it slow _

_ Wait for them to ask you who you know _

_ Please don't make any sudden moves _

_ You don't know the half of the abuse _

 

And there on the screen were clips of videos that Ginny had shot with her GoPro over the past six weeks. There was one of Voohries and Stubbs having a fencing duel, their lunges in perfect form as they did their best to stab each other with their baseball gloves, their pilfered catcher’s masks and chest pads protecting them from any accidental or, much more likely, purposeful injuries.   
  


_ Welcome to the room of people _

_ Who have rooms of people that they loved one day _

_ Docked away _

_ Just because we check the guns at the door _

_ Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades _

_ You're lovin' on the psychopath sitting next to you _

_ You're lovin' on the murderer sitting next to you _

_ You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?" _

_ But after all I've said, please don't forget _

  
  


The screen went black for no more than a second before a new clip popped up. In the middle of the clubhouse floor were huge boxes that had formerly housed the appliances recently installed in the clubhouse kitchen. The clip moved to fast motion, showing rookie after rookie stepping into the refrigerator box and sitting down into as small of a space as possible. The rookies managed to squeeze in seven players, which seemed to become the goal to beat. Next the bullpen squeezed in six, after which player number seven managed to fall on the side of the box and nearly tipped the entire group over the side with him. All five starters fit in without issue, although Ginny looked seriously annoyed sitting in the very middle of the box, squeezed between big guys that weren’t making much of an effort to try and be smaller to save space. The outfielders fit in five, but the infielders only managed four because Salvi took up more space than the two shortstops combined. And last of all, the two catchers stretched out in their box, smirking until the outfielders rushed them, tipping the box over and trapping the two men inside.

 

_ All my friends are heathens, take it slow _

_ Wait for them to ask you who you know _

_ Please don't make any sudden moves _

_ You don't know the half of the abuse _

_ We don't deal with outsiders very well _

_ They say newcomers have a certain smell _

_ Yeah, trust issues, not to mention _

_ They say they can smell your intentions _

  
  


The scene abruptly changed to show the Padres dugout during pregame warm-ups, clearly shot by the stadium cameras. The entire team was wearing home whites as expected, but when the camera zoomed in it was obvious that there were three different jerseys being worn by the players. A few players had the Padres with blue piping jerseys, most had the jerseys with the SD, and handful of players wore the Padres with yellow piping jerseys. Suddenly the entire dugout looked down at their own jerseys, then at their neighbor’s. While Ellis and Stubbs gleefully laughed, half of the Padres team traipsed down the tunnel to change into the correct jersey.

  
  


_ Why'd you come, you knew you should have stayed _

_ (It's blasphemy) _

_ I tried to warn you just to stay away _

_ And now they're outside ready to bust _

_ It looks like you might be one of us _

  
  


With a spin of the video that made Ginny faintly motion sick, the dugout scene was replaced by one of the hallway between the clubhouse and indoor batting cages. At the far end of the hallway was Melky sitting in a rolling chair holding a Nerf bat, Salvi behind him with his hands on the chair. The camera swung around to show Ginny with her own Nerf bat and Livan behind her, both grinning at the camera mounted on her hat. The image swirled again as Ginny replaced her ball cap, and suddenly the walls were rushing past. Melky approached with his bat high and Ginny’s bat raised until both were pointed at each other’s chest in clear mimicry of a medieval joust. There was contact made, then sudden chaos as images of limbs, carpet  and then ceiling tiles all flashed across the screen within a scant few seconds. All was still for a moment before Mike’s face suddenly appeared, scowling directly into the screen. His hand darkened the camera and then suddenly the viewpoint changed and the carnage of the failed joust experiment was visible. Ginny lay flat on the carpet with the chair on top of her, glaring up at Mike, her hair wild around her face. Melky was on his side, still trapped in the chair while the wheels continued to spin and his legs kicked in frustration. Livan was face first on the carpet five feet behind Melky, where he had landed after going headfirst over both chairs when they impacted and Salvi, poor Salvi, was sitting against the wall, his cheekbone already beginning to bruise.

Laughter filled the clubhouse. “That was epic,” Shrek announced to the room. 

“As was the fine from the kangaroo court,” Melky muttered.

“And the lecture we got from the front office,” Ginny reminded them all. All four players grimaced at the memory. 

“And because you guys can’t properly joust, we’re no longer allowed to have medieval tournaments in the clubhouse,” Voohries reminded them. “A fine tradition ruined.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a tradition when this was the first time we did it,” Salvi pointed out with a scowl.

“Well, it could have been,” Voohries argued.

As the song ended, Mi-Lin’s image suddenly appeared on the television and the clubhouse went quiet. “I hope you don’t mind that I put a small clip in for myself. I’ve always wanted to try it. If it turns out stupid, you can fast forward through it. I promise not to haunt you. Well, at least not for that,” she said with a faint smile.

 

_ I've been staring at the edge of the water _

_ 'Long as I can remember, never really knowing why _

_ I wish I could be the perfect daughter _

_ But I come back to the water, no matter how hard I try _

_ Every turn I take, every trail I track _

_ Every path I make, every road leads back _

_ To the place I know, where I can not go, where I long to be _

 

The video began with a view of the inside of a train station, a wheelchair obviously struggling to negotiate the crowd and obstacles in the way. In quick succession, the views of scenery rushing past the train window were replaced with an image of the wheelchair lift on a San Diego bus, and then views of the Petco Park doors approaching. Then suddenly the door opened, and there was Ginny smiling in welcome. 

 

_ See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me _

_ And no one knows, how far it goes _

_ If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me _

_ One day I'll know, if I go there's just no telling how far I'll go _

 

The view from the owner’s box came onto the screen, the gleaming blue of the Pacific Ocean stretching to the horizon. The panoramic view from the owners’ box revealed the bay giving way to the bustling airport, then the historical gaslamp district before focusing on the pristine green of Petco’s outfield. A clip of Mi throwing out the first pitch, and then riding on Ginny’s back and waving to the crowd followed, Mi’s smile so beaming, so genuine that many of the players smiled in instinctive response. 

 

_ I know everybody on this island, seems so happy on this island _

_ Everything is by design _

_ I know everybody on this island has a role on this island _

_ So maybe I can roll with mine _

_ I can lead with pride, I can make us strong _

_ I'll be satisfied if I play along _

_ But the voice inside sings a different song _

_ What is wrong with me? _

 

The scene changed to show the inside of an apartment. The plain walls were probably once white, but now were yellowed with age, as was the once green shag carpet. A couple of plastic lawn chairs sat in the living room, as did several sleeping bags, and two ratty sheets served as curtains to cover the windows. The camera moved through a short, dingy hallway that then opened up into a tiny bedroom. And there on the twin bed were Omar, Mi-Lin, and Ginny, wedged shoulder to shoulder and oblivious to the camera. The two had stuffed pillows behind the teen, but it was clear that their shoulders were the only thing holding Mi upright. The girl looked so unlike the Mi-Lin they had all met that several of the Padres players flinched. Her eyes were sunken in and her skin was gray and she looked like she was too skinny to even hold her own head up. Yet there she was, smiling faintly at a tv screen while playing a video game with the two players. And as they watched, Omar gently raised Mi-Lin’s arm in the air in victory as Ginny pretended to flop over the edge of the bed in defeat. 

 

_ See the light as it shines on the sea? It's blinding _

_ But no one knows, how deep it goes _

_ And it seems like it's calling out to me, so come find me _

_ And let me know, what's beyond that line, will I cross that line? _

  
  
  


The screen filled with an image of golden colored sand and white capped waves slowly rolling towards the camera. Ginny came into view carefully rolling a beach wheelchair towards the waves, stopping a second to tuck in a blanket into the wheelchair and then quickly tighten the rubber band holding her ponytail in place. Omar paced beside her, holding three pairs of flip flops and softly kicking up sand as he leaned down to speak to Mi. They rolled right to the very edge of the water and stood for a long minute, just staring in silence across the endless blue. 

Omar carefully placed the sandals out of the water’s reach and crouched down to Mi. Ginny unwrapped the blanket from the girl and then stood back as Omar carefully lifted her from her chair. And with a gentleness that brought tears to the eyes of more than one Padre in the clubhouse, Omar carried the fragile teen out into the water. He stopped when the water hit him mid-shin and very carefully lowered himself to his knees until just Mi’s feet could touch the water. The girl visibly flinched, but then must have said something because Omar threw back his head and laughed. Ginny walked up beside them and lowered herself to sit beside the two. She gently took Mi-Lin’s limp hand and softly ran it through the foaming waves. After no more than a minute or two, the players rose and began their trek back to the beach. 

For the first time they players could see Mi. The girl was obviously far worse off than in even the previous video. She could no longer hold her body upright, and even her head was resting against Omar’s chest. Her tiny hand was lying in Ginny’s, her body so gaunt she looked like she was no more than a second from death. Yet even with her eyes closed in exhaustion she said something that made both Omar and Ginny smile. Omar gently lowered her back into the wheelchair and Ginny carefully tucked the blanket around her until no skin was exposed to the breeze except her face. And as she stepped away, it was clear the small blanket, probably meant for a young child, said “My First Trip To The Beach”. 

 

_ The line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me _

_ And no one knows, how far it goes _

_ If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me _

_ One day I'll know, how far I'll go _

 

The final scene showed Mi-Lin tucked into her bed, her Padres jersey visible under the beach blanket. Tucked beside her was a huge stuffed Minnie Mouse and a shining tiara sat gently on her head. Her hands were resting on a piece of paper lying on her chest, even that minuscule weight too much for her to lift. It said:

 

**Bucket List**

 

Live to be 18  ✔️

See the ocean  ✔️

Meet Ginny Baker  ✔️

Have a crush  ✔️

See a baseball game  ✔️

Be a princess  ✔️

Have a stuffed animal of my own  ✔️

Make a difference in someone’s life  ✔️

 

And then, as the video focused in, Mi-Lin opened her eyes and whispered, the words so quietly they had to be read as much as heard.

“I love you.”

This time it was Omar that pulled Ginny into him, her sobs only partially smothered by his shoulder while his tears wet her hair from where he cried above her. Salvi stepped behind them and pulled both of them into a hug, his arms tightening as he sniffed repeatedly.

“Oh man,” Butch murmured, his hushed voice loud in the room. “I think I need to go home and hug my girls.”

“Yeah, maybe when my toddlers crawl in bed with us tonight I’ll let them stay. Just for the night,” Berger agreed, his voice thin from the emotion tightening his throat.

Suddenly a face appeared on the screen, making several players jump.

“Um hi,” the teen said uncomfortably. “I’m Justin. I was one of Mi-Lin’s roommates. Mi had one more video she wanted to finish but she didn’t quite get it done. She told me what to do, so I helped finalize it. I promise it’s all her work, I just compiled it. I, uh, hope you don’t mind.” His hand reached towards the camera, before retreating. “Oh, Ginny and Omar, you can come hang out anytime. We’ve saved all of Mi’s pictures if you still want them. Just let me know.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, here you go.” And then the screen went black.

Salvi stepped away as Omar released Ginny and they both turned back to the screen.

 

_ Will you hold the line? _

_ When every one of them is giving up or giving in, tell me _

_ In this house of mine? _

_ Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me _

_ Will the stars align? _

_ Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin? Will it? _

_ 'Cause this house of mine stands strong _

 

The video opened showing Sonny warming up in the bullpen before a start, his curveballs beginning to break and the sharp pop of the first fastball hitting catcher’s mitt loud even over the music. The clip flashed to the weight room where Salvi and Shrek were tossing the medicine ball to each other. Melky was spotting Ellis on the bench press and Ginny was running hard on the treadmill, Livan trying to outrun her from his machine. Then suddenly they were in the indoor batting cages, where Blip, Hanan, and Meers were scowling in concentration as they hit pitch after pitch into the nets behind the pitching machine.

 

_ That's the price you pay _

_ Leave behind your heartache, cast away _

_ Just another product of today _

_ Rather be the hunter than the prey _

_ And you're standing on the edge, face up 'cause you're a _

 

In a blink they were in the training room where Mike was buried under multiple heating pads and Voohries lifted an ice pack to show the team doctor the dark bruising across his ribs from where he was hit the day before. Hinkley sat shivering in the ice bath while Javanes grimaced as the PT slowly stretched out his sore hamstring.

 

_ Natural _

_ A beating heart of stone _

_ You gotta be so cold _

_ To make it in this world _

_ Yeah, you're a natural _

_ Living your life cutthroat _

_ You gotta be so cold _

_ Yeah, you're a natural _

  
  


A view of the dugout with players tugging on their mitts and settling their hats tighter on their head flashed across the screen. At the start of the hard driving rhythm, the starters burst out of the dugout, sprinting towards their positions as the crowd cheered their home team. And suddenly the highlight reel began. There was Omar making a mind-boggling catch to start a double play with Melky. Blip dove for a ball in centerfield, his body parallel to the ground and reaching as far as humanly possible to snag the line drive for the critical out. And then there a clip of Hinkley making an unbelievable over the shoulder catch at third and throwing to first, where Salvi stretched into the splits to field it for a double play out at first. A second after that clip was one of Mike diving into the visitors’ dugout to catch a foul ball, defiantly raising it in the air to show the out even as he climbed gingerly out of the dugout, a cut on his jaw already bleeding onto his jersey.

 

_ Will somebody _

_ Let me see the light within the dark trees' shadows and _

_ What's happenin'? _

_ Lookin' through the glass find the wrong within the past knowin' _

_ We are the youth _

_ Cut until it bleeds, inside a world without the peace facing _

_ A bit of the truth, the truth _

 

The scene moved back to the dugout where the Padres were all lined up, greeting Hanan after a homer with raised hands, helmet smacks and ridiculous handshakes. In quick succession it showed each player’s handshake, the stupid dance that the outfielders made up to celebrate a win, and the newly redesigned home run celebration only performed by the home run hitter and any runners they drove in. And yet something about seeing the ridiculous rites that grew out of boredom, exhaustion, and too much free time with too little maturity to handle it made them even more endearing. Something that resembled a family’s traditions. If your family was made up entirely of “those” cousins that all families consider the black sheep, that is.

  
  


_ Natural _

_ A beating heart of stone _

_ You gotta be so cold _

_ To make it in this world _

_ Yeah, you're a natural _

_ Living your life cutthroat _

_ You gotta be so cold _

_ Yeah, you're a natural _

 

The chorus brought a highlight reel of the Padres pitching staff. There was Sonny’s changeup that had the leading slugger in MLB look like a child when he missed the pitch by three feet. Ginny’s screwball flew past the batter, who didn’t even swing. He was shaking his head as he walked back and the camera clearly caught him saying ‘wow’ in disbelief at the nearly three foot rise that had turned a low ball into a belt high strike at the last moment. There was Berger’s fastball with the 102 mph flashing in the backdrop as the batter swung in a futile attempt to make contact. And then Butch’s strikeout to end a game with the bases loaded flashed across the screen, the normally composed player pumping his fist as the umpire called the batter out. 

 

_ Deep inside me, I'm fading to black, I'm fading _

_ Took an oath by the blood of my hand, won't break it _

_ I can taste it, the end is upon us, I swear _

_ Gonna make it _

_ I'm gonna make it _

 

The colors of the video darkened a shade, each clip of video darkening the mood to match. Salvi’s strikeout on a ball in the dirt and his slamming both his helmet and bat onto the ground flashed on the screen, followed immediately by Shrek’s being picked off of first in a little league baserunning mistake. There was Melky’s error allowing a ground ball to roll under his glove and the outfield collision between Ellis and Blip that left both men writhing on the ground. Livan’s passed ball and Lawson getting hit hard by the runner when Lawson tried to block the path to home proceeded the image of Ginny dropping her head, choosing to stare at her cleats instead of the home run ball the batter had buried four hundred feet from home plate. Javanes’ blown save and Berger getting hit by a comeback shot to the ankle that instantly dropped him to the ground completed the solemn clip.

 

 

_I’m gonna make it_

_Natural_

_A beating heart of stone_

_You gotta be so cold_

_To make it in this world_

_Yeah, you're a natural_

_Living your life cutthroat_

_You gotta be so cold_

_Yeah, you're a natural_

 

And suddenly the video lightened, the music increased in volume and a pounding beat came from the speakers. In perfect timing with the bass drum beats were back to back clips of players hitting home runs, the batters’ swings mirroring each other in speed and force as the distance of each homer flashed across the screen. Melky’s slide into second for a successful stolen base followed the video of Hinkley’s in the park home run, the man’s legs nearly a blur as he rounded third for home, racing the throw to the plate. Butch’s perfect bunt was shown, the opposing team so shocked at a reliever being at the plate that he was on first before the third baseman even had a good grip on the ball. And then there was Omar standing on third, his eyes locked on home plate. As soon as the Dodgers pitcher began his motion, Omar took off. Livan jumped back as Omar dove in head first, his hand swiping the plate just before the catcher could tag him, leading to the first successfully stolen home base in Padres’ history. 

As the music faded away, one last image stilled on the screen. It was the team celebrating an extra innings win. They were all gathered around the pitcher’s mound, laughing and hugging each other and just enjoying their moment with twenty-four other players that composed the Padres regular season roster. 

Silence settled in the clubhouse as the players looked at each other, some too nervous to say the wrong thing and some still too moved to risk revealing too much emotion by saying anything. Several veterans exchanged glances, trying to decide who would say something.

“That was a hell of a video,” Mike said into the quiet. “I nominate that video to be our win celebration song for the rest of the season.”

“Oh hell yes,” Shrek agreed. “I second that.”

“All in favor,” Blip called out. The clubhouse filled with sounds of agreements. “It’s official. We’re now changing our win song and season highlight reel to Mi-Lin’s video.”

Omar turned to face the team, his hand scrubbing across his cheeks to erase the tears. “Thanks for watching the video. I know you wanted to get home to your families, and I appreciate that you stayed.”

“That’s what family does,” Shrek said with a shrug, considering it obvious. “We support each other.”

“Alright, get out of here, you mooks. We have an afternoon game tomorrow, so maybe lay off the alcohol and get some sleep for once,” Mike announced to the room in general. He stepped back to lean against the wall and watched as the players quickly gathered their stuff and moved towards the exit. Most players stopped to give Omar a pat on the shoulder or a hug from the guys he was closest to. The players paused awkwardly as they stared at Ginny’s back, unsure what they were supposed to do when she hadn’t even turned around to face them.

Livan stepped behind her and picked her up off her feet in a bear hug. He whispered something in her ear as he swung her around to face the room. She punched his shoulder as he stepped back, but then she faced the room with her chin up and back straight, daring someone to say anything about her tears.

Instead, Salvi gave her another hug tight enough she groaned. The minute he released her Blip was there with another warm hug, his whispered offer for her to spend the night at his house nearly brought her to tears all over again.

Butch stepped in front of her and paused to consider her expression. “I’d like to give you a hug, but I don’t know if that would be weird. I mean, I’d be pissed is someone hugged my girls..,” he began. Ginny solved his dilemma by reaching out and hugging the guy herself. And somehow, even though he was only 15 years older than her, it felt like he hugged her just like a dad would.

Eventually the clubhouse emptied of players and staff until it was just Omar, Ginny and Mike. Omar slid the disc out of the DVD player and gently put it back in its case. “I’d like to keep this tonight. Please. I’ll make you a copy and get it to you tomorrow,” he murmured to Ginny. He held the case as gingerly as he would the crown jewels of England.

“I don’t mind,” Ginny told him, rubbing her hand across his tense back as she leaned into him.

Omar dropped his head to her shoulder and heaved a shuddering breath. “I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he confessed. “I mean, we knew she was dying but…” He stopped, swallowing hard to suppress tears.

“I know,” Ginny told him as she hugged him. “It isn’t any easier. It still fucking hurts.”

“Alright you two, let’s go,” Mike called from across the room. “You’re both spending tonight at Casa de Lawson. Fortunately for you both I have just enough bedrooms so you won’t have to sleep on the lawn. My housekeeper made up a huge batch of her tamales and because I’m such a great guy, I’ll let you each have one. Well, maybe you can share one. I’ll have to think about it on the way.”

Both players frowned at him. “Lawson, there’s no need,” Omar began. “Listen old man,” Ginny said at the same time.

“Enough. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” he ordered them. Then he took a breath and lowered his guard just a bit. “I’ve been where you are. It sucks. Every single time, it sucks. But there’s always one that just breaks your heart. Trust me, you’ll be better off with friends than by yourself tonight.”

Omar glanced between Mike and Ginny before deciding. “I’m in. I need to go grab a couple of things from my place and I’ll head over.”

“Nope, you’ll follow me now. If you go home, you won’t leave again,” Mike countered.

Omar opened his mouth to argue than closed it. “Fine. I’ll dump my stuff in my jeep and meet you guys in the lot. Want me to drive?”

“Nah, I brought the Escalade today so we’ll all fit,” Mike told him. “We’ll meet you out there.”

Ginny brushed past Mike to get to the still open door of her closet. She quickly gathered what she needed into her backpack and turned to leave only to nearly ran into him as he blocked the doorway.

Mike waited for her to make some joke about him being too old to move out of her way, or to even just shove him back into the hall, but she did neither. Instead she just stood in front of him and waited with a stillness he hadn’t known she was even capable of. The longer the silence stretched the more he worried about her.

“Are we going to fight about you spending the night at my place,” he finally asked her.

“No.” Her tone and expression gave him no insight into her mood.

He sighed. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Ginny. And I’m sorry, so damn sorry, that I jumped all over you during the game. If I had known…”

“I know, Mike. I know.”

And she finally looked at him. Her eyes met his and he instantly knew what she needed. “Come here Baker,” he told her, opening his arms wide. The fact that she didn’t even hesitate to step into the hug went along way to ease the crushing guilt he still felt for how badly he had handled her today and the fear that she wouldn’t forgive him for being an ass. Well, an even bigger ass than normal.

“Why didn’t you warn me,” she asked after she finally pulled away.

“Would it have made a difference? Would you have refused to meet her if I had warned you that your heart was going to break when she died?”

Ginny didn’t answer him until they were at the door leading to the player’s parking lot. Her hand on his arm stopped him. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“I wouldn’t have refused to meet her. It was the right thing to do.” 

“I know, Gin. And that’s why you’re coming over. I’ve got endless amounts of food, drink, and anything else you will need to help get through the first couple of days.”

A faint smile appeared, no where close to the full wattage smile she had that could make the world smile with her, but still a smile nonetheless. “You’re getting wise in your old age, Lawson. Maybe there is some truth that wisdom comes with gray hair.”

“Lucky for me, I’m wise without any gray hairs,” he retorted as he pushed through the doors to leave the stadium.

“If I tell you that you have several new gray hairs in your beard will you finally shave it?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Now that I think about it, you have to sleep sometime tonight and I’m sure there are razors somewhere in your house,” she mused.

He covered his beard with both hands. “Don’t even think about it,” he told her with mock concern.

She reached out and tugged gently on the fur covering the end of his chin. “You like living dangerously,” she observed. “But maybe, just this once, I’ll let it go.” She tugged again and waited until he met her eyes. “Thanks Mike. For everything.”

“Your welcome, Gin. Now come on, let’s go get Omar before he mistakenly thinks you and I actually like talking to each other.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I barely tolerate you. Lead the way, old man.”

“You’re lucky that as the team captain I’m obligated to acknowledge you, rookie. You should be basking in my greatness, not talking back.”

She made a scoffing sound at his back and bickered with him the entire way to his car. But as she and Omar sat in the back quietly talking, he realized that she was going to be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon she’d be able to think about her time with Mi-Lin and smile. And whatever she needed, he’d make sure she got it. 

That’s what friends did.


	2. Song List

**Batting practice**

I’m A Believer by the Monkees

Big Bad John by Jimmy Dean

Waterloo by Stonewall Jackson

Centerfield by John Fogerty

Havana by Camilla Cabello

Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top

Dear Future Husband by Meghan Trainor

Unstoppable by The Score

Not Afraid by Eminem

Immortals by Fallout Boy

I’ll Make A Man Out Of You from the Mulan soundtrack

 

**Ginny’s batting song**

Centuries by Fallout Boy

 

**Video soundtrack**

Heathens by Twenty-one pilots

How Far I’ll Go from the Moana soundtrack

Natural by Imagine Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story far different from what I normally write. I hope you like it.


End file.
